Petites Histoires Risquées
by Karama9
Summary: Last set of somewhat independent Arashikage bonuses – two stories in English despite the title that deal with adult matters. Rated M to be safe; nothing explicit whatsoever, and no real spoilers. Second story features Tommy getting lucky.
1. Chapter 1

This first story is set while Snake Eyes is training with the Arashikage clan. It is in Tommy's point of view.

* * *

"Where did you even GET that?" I ask, grabbing the can of coke out of his hand.

He jumps and turns around, trying to frown but looking like a kid caught with a stolen bag of candies. I smirk at him.

"Still deaf as a stone, I see."

"You're the first one to manage to sneak up on me in a while. Give that back, will you?"

"Nuh-uh. It belongs in the trash, not in you."

He opens his mouth but I cut him off.

"If the Hard Master finds out you don't feel like you're abusing your body enough already, I'm sure he'll find ways to remedy the situation."

He rolls his eyes.

"It's not abuse if it's in moderation."

"You would spend all this time and effort making your body as efficient as it can be, and then undo it all by stuffing yourself with refined sugar and drugs?" I lecture. "And do you expect me to believe there isn't a single actual food item – real food, I mean - that you enjoy? Come on, you MUST like some fruits, at least. I don't even remember your being a picky eater in the war. You even managed to gulp down those rations without so much as a single gag."

"Don't YOU ever want a treat? Precisely BECAUSE you're putting yourself in pain all the time?"

I smirk at him. He's going to start literally begging next, at this rate... he obviously needs a distraction.

"No junk food," I repeat sternly. "For crying out loud, haven't you figured out how the other students comfort themselves? I'm hardly ever here and I still can tell they're just like we were before I left for the war, despite the much smaller numbers. You ARE allowed out of your room in the evenings, you know."

He turns beet red, confirming without a doubt that he HAS noticed.

"You know about that? Do the other Masters...?"

I roll my eyes at him.

"Of course they know. Stop being such a prude. Sex feels good and unlike this..." I wave the can at him. "...it won't harm you, provided you protect yourself. It even gives you a bit more cardio, if you absolutely need an excuse. What is it, can't find a girl who's willing?" I finish with a smirk.

He somehow manages to turn an ever deeper shade of red as anger mixes in with embarrassment.

I probably shouldn't be enjoying this quite so much.

"And it was like that when you were a student yourself, was it?" he asks in an obvious attempt at steering the conversation away from himself.

I nod, smirking again.

"Admittedly, it was easier back then. There were literally dozens of girls here, and plenty of them were my age or close enough. Between that and the girls at school who were either dumb enough to believe I was absent all the time because I was plagued with all those diseases and therefore took pity on me, and the ones who were smart enough to figure out I didn't look and move like a ninja for nothing and downright lusted after me..."

"Oh shut up," he cuts me off. "Wait a minute..." he adds accusingly, "you told me you were homeschooled!"

"I was for the most part, but going to an accredited school is mandatory here, so I was registered. I'd go for a week every now and then, and once every week or every other week outside of that. My uncle made up all kinds of health reasons for me not to go more often - I'm guessing the school didn't buy it, but they never felt the need to fight my family about it, as long as I passed my classes."

"I can't picture you taking advantage of the girls pitying you."

"Oh alright, you got me on that one. I only ever had one conquest at school, and she was in the lusting-after-the-ninja-kid category. I felt sooo used." I finish with a melodramatic accent.

He snorts.

"Not enough to refuse, obviously."

"Well, no. I WAS fifteen."

"First time?"

"How did this conversation become about me?"

He shrugs.

"It's a talent of yours, and I'm hoping to distract you enough to snag my coke back."

I chuckle.

"Forget it. And no, but she flashed me. Like I said: fifteen."

He sniggers.

"Is that why you wanted to be a teacher? More of the right kind of action by staying home?"

This time I laugh out loud. He's so naive it's cute. He interprets my reaction correctly and groans.

"Don't tell me. The marriage proposals come with offers to try it out?"

It takes some serious effort to stop laughing and to answer.

"Sometimes, but there's no need for proposals for that. Teachers tend to settle down, marry. Wage Earners are the ones who are usually promiscuous and who enjoy this kind of variety. Haven't any of the other students mentioned that?"

His eyes are wide but he nods.

"I thought they were kidding. They say it's part of the whole lifestyle… is what you do really all that dangerous?"

"Technically, yes, but in reality, we don't go around killing each other over the prizes, so thieving missions and guarding missions for them aren't that dangerous – the most that will happen is an injury. Bodyguard jobs can be dangerous, but usually, the opposition is no threat to ninjas. If the opposition IS ninjas, we still avoid mortally wounding each other because that would quickly devolve into clan wars. So, yes, it's dangerous, but I don't expect to die young from it."

I flash him a smile, cock my head and bat my eyelashes.

"You weren't worried for me, were you?"

He rolls his eyes at me.

"Not anymore, now I know you just go out to sleep around with any willing girl."

"I do NOT. I refuse most offers, if you must know."

I neglect to mention the only reason for that is that I'm typically too tired or eager to come back and train to have much desire to accept.

He snorts.

"Most? That still means you're a shameless playboy, and I COULD use less gentle vocabulary," he says, imitating – badly – my voice. "My opinion of you is forever tainted, but I might consider forgiving you IF you give me my coke back."

"Can't now, the Hard Master's coming this way... I think I made you late. I'd almost be tempted, though, just to reward you for talking normally for once."

He looks at his watch in a panic and jumps to his feet to trot towards his sensei, who promptly scolds him and instructs him to go run the long course a couple of times since he's obviously feeling so leisurely today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Refueling**

This second story would be set in the first few years that Storm Shadow was with Cobra, on a rare night away from Cobra Island.

* * *

I sit down at a table that gives me a good view of the rest of the bar and start looking around for someone else who is not accompanied.

There are a few, but due to the late hour, most of them are already drunk out of their mind or looking like they're desperate enough to settle for anything, and ready to regret it come morning.

I sigh, feeling incredibly foolish for even caring. I honestly have more important things to worry about than picking up a date and having a bit of fun, and I'm not sure I can explain why I'm here at all. I know why I wanted to come here, but I don't know why I gave in to the desire. It's a waste of time: I should be resting before I have to go back to the Island tomorrow morning.

I'm about to get up and give up on finding some company when a woman detaches herself from a small group and walks to me. I peel my ears to try and hear what her friends are saying while she makes her way here, but I can't make it out over the loud music.

"Hello handsome," she greets me, sitting herself down next to me. "My friends and I don't think we've seen you 'round here before. You new to the neighbourhood?"

"I'm just passing through," I reply, forcing a smile.

"You look blue. Want to talk?"

I blink at her. That's not the offer I was expecting, but it is still a tempting one. I shrug.

"I'm just not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow."

"You don't like your job?"

I snort.

"You could say that. You could also say I loathe it with every fibre of my being."

"Why don't you quit then?"

"Long story. Let's just say it's absolutely not an option."

"O…kay."

"What about you?" I ask her. "Judging from your first question, you live around here?"

She nods.

"I work at the restaurant across the street," she says.

I can't help wrinkling my nose – the restaurant across the street is a greasy burger joint.

"Yeah, it's gross." She laughs. "What do YOU do?"

"Private security," I answer.

"Rent-a-cop," she says, nodding knowingly. "Yeah, I wouldn't like it either."

Ninja rent-a-cop. I chuckle at the thought.

"Actually, I'm a bodyguard."

Her eyes widen.

"Really? Who's your boss? Anyone famous?"

"I'm sorry, but I really can't say. It's classified," I reply, figuring it'll sound cooler than just refusing to answer.

Her eyes widen a bit more.

"And you don't like it? Why?"

"I can't stand my boss, for one thing. The man might be a genius, but I don't agree with his philosophies at all, to the point I feel like it's a stain on me to be working for him. He's also, without a doubt, the single most annoying individual on the planet. I absolutely hate my coworkers, too, and I work in a remote location, so I can never get away from the lot of them."

She doesn't react much, leading me to conclude she assumes I'm exaggerating. I can't say I blame her and besides, that assumption reduces her chances of finding out who I work for from incredibly low to completely nil – definitely a good thing. I can't deny, however, that I wouldn't have minded just a bit more sympathy.

"So this is the first time you get to go out and meet someone in a while?" she asks.

I sigh and take a sip of my tea. She giggles, causing me to raise an eyebrow at her. That was unexpectedly cute.

"Aren't you on the strong stuff," she says mockingly.

I snicker and bend towards her.

"It's worse than you think:" I say, lowering my tone as though I'm confiding a great secret, "it's herbal."

She laughs, but stops abruptly and bends towards me, whispering as well.

"Sounds like a lonely life. I'm sorry."

My eyes trail down and focus on my tea.

"Like I said, not looking forward to going back," I mutter. I take another sip to stop myself from elaborating.

"So you figured you'd like to have a bit of fun to recharge your batteries? Is that it?"

"Basically, but talking was good too. Thank you for listening."

"What? You changed your mind?" she asks.

"You only offered a talk," I point out.

"Maybe I'm waiting for you to offer more."

"It'd have to be your place. There are… classified things in mine."

The classified things are nothing more than the weapons I don't have on me right now, but I'm pretty sure they would scare her off.

"Wow. You are SUCH a romantic. It'd have to be your place… you've gone and swept me right off my feet."

My eyes widen briefly before I realize she may have been expecting me to try and seduce her. Come to think of it, it would probably have been the right thing to do. I'm too used to ninja partners who dispense with all the niceties above asking for consent – and who sometimes forget to do that much, too.

She looks genuinely upset. I get up, go around the table, tip her chair back and pick her up in a cradle-hold just as she starts falling backwards, smiling down at her.

"How's that? You weren't on your feet, so I figured sweeping you off your chair instead was all right."

She laughs.

"Better."

* * *

It's already morning by the time I get back to my room. I haven't slept a wink, but between having someone non-evil to talk to – which we did a lot of even after we got to her place – and the more basic, physical comfort she provided, I feel more refreshed than I have in a long time and I don't regret the missed sleep at all.


End file.
